meet pratt2.

pratt was so awesome at school yesterday.  i assume he's usually pretty good because they say he is.  but yesterday when i went to get him, i was about 10 minutes late.  i thought he would be in the 4 year old classroom.  but he wasn't.  he was in his classroom with his new teacher.  i apologized saying that i was so sorry and thought he would be out of her hair by now.  she said, "oh no! he wanted to stay with me and help me get the room set up.  and he's such a great little helper.  so we decided he would wait here for you."

all i heard was "such a great little helper".  that's my pratt.  the best helper.

and so we left there and immediately went and got frozen yogurt from leave it to liz.  and then we came home.  he was good all afternoon.  like, went out of his way to help me with his very sick brother.

and so by about 445, i told him i thought we should get another fish.  i mean, he loves fish.  he talks to them.  feeds them.  even well...remember this post?

so yes.  it's time.

clint took him last night.  because daddy is the fish expert.  like, for real.  he is.  they were gone well over an hour.  and came back with this guy.





dad almost died because this little guy cost 16 bucks.  ha.  yes.  16.  when the cashier rang him up he said something like, "whoa.  16.  i thought they were like 5."

her response: "they start at 4.99.  the prettier the fish, the more expensive."

how hilarious is that!?  16 dollars.  that means we MUST keep him alive for at least 16 days.  i think i can handle that.  surely.

pratt named him.  i tried lots of things.  i even tried "buster".  to which he replied, "you can't have two busters mom."

oh, right.

so what's the name?

pratt.

when i threw it right back at him, "you can't have two pratts, pratt."

his response:  "okay.  pratt2."

sounds good to me.

buster.

over the past few days, i've picked up so many cups.  kid cups.  you know, from chilis.  or dixie cafe.  or the dollar bin at the target.

i will walk up to a table, the fireplace, the floor...and see, two cups.  filled to the brim with water.  and only one has been consumed.

so finally today, i took the bait and said, "pratt.  why have i picked up like 16 cups over the past few days? why?  why is there water in 2 cups? side by side.  i don't understand."

he goes, "buster.  one is for me.  and one is for buster."

buster is his "inbisible" bunny.  who i imagine looks exactly like buster from arrested development.

you too?  yes.  because do you know another buster?  if the bunny's name were job, i would imagine the same thing.  job bluth.

i don't know another buster. just that one.  the one that has the s.e.x. with liza minnelli.

anyway...back to the story.

so i apparently need to dig a grave for ole bus because he won't be here soon.  by the looks of it, he's in severe kidney failure.  and we're gonna have to let him pass.  maybe even help the process along.

it's not too early to talk to him about jack kevorkian, is it?

i'm tired.  being a stay at home mom is going to kill me.  i can feel it.

me and buster bluth.

morning.

Pratt just came into the kitchen and said, "I know this sounds weird...but...this situation feels familiar."

So we talked about the brain and the corpus callosum. And he liked it. Said it was interesting.

May he always love to learn. I know I do. (Clint, consider this my plea at nursing school....)

Here he is filling up for his first day back at school.




In other news, Max is pulling my face off when he eats.


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rocky.

life seems to be so much harder right now.

clint and i rarely get time together without pratt or max.  by the time we are alone, i'm exhausted and so is he.

we have fought more than we ever have recently.  and by "more", i would mean maybe once a week.  but i hold onto it.  i don't let things go.  i get mad about something and then i let something else build on top of that and then something else is added and by day three, i'm still mad.

i'm not proud of this.  i know that i need to be more mature.  and a better wife.  but i'm having a hard time.

it's always the same thing.  i feel like i do so much and i deserve a break.  i see his poker nights and saturdays spend outside doing housework as "a break".  he doesn't.  well, he sees the poker as a break.  but not the outside work.  i see the outside work as "fun" because it doesn't involve poop diapers.  or cleaning the dishes.  or the floors.  or doing the laundry.

i want him to read my mind.  i really thought after 10 years together, he would be able to.  i'm pretty sure i can read his.

sike.  i can't read his.  and he can't read mine.  and that's where the breakdown occurs.

i was listening to dr. laura on the radio the other day.  i love her.  she's so mean.  but i still love her.  because i agree with her on a lot.  she's like the radio version of simon cowell.  anyway.  a woman called in and said that her husband had left her and her baby because he said she was horrible to be around.  because she was rude and always tired.  and never had time for him.

i literally started crying in the car listening.  it was me.  like, it was totally me.

she had excuses for her behavior.  my excuses.

i'm tired.  i don't feel like making out because i'm tired.  and because my body looks like that of a 98 year old woman.  and when he doesn't do something the way i think it should be done, i fuss.  and fight.  and he snaps back.  (because he's not totally innocent) and then i snap.  and then we go to bed mad.

and on and on and on.

and then she said, "i just want him home.  i used to want time alone.  i wanted to go anywhere.  and now, now all i want is him to come home. i just want to sit next to him."

it was absolutely heartbreaking.

i don't think clint would ever leave me.  i'm 99% sure of that.  but the thought still scared me to death.  like i could nag enough to where he would want to sit in his car and not come in.

he always tells pratt, "there is no where else i would rather be than here with you, max and mom."  and he means it.

what if he stopped meaning it.  stopped saying it?  i would die.

so i'm going to be better.  clint, if you're reading this, i'm working on it.

i'm sorry for being tired.  and for being cranky and witchy.

he deserves better.  so do our boys.

batteries.

this morning as i was in the shower, pratt was caring for "buster" and all the other rabbits in the bathtub.  we were conversing.  talking about the weather.  what we would make for daddy's dinner saturday night (birthday dinner with nana).  baby liza.  etc, etc.

i try so hard not to harp on things that pratt could work on.  you know, behavior.  manners, etc.  i don't want people constantly throwing in my face things i'm not good at.  so i try not to do it to him.  i even use my master's degree and try to talk positively.

so i say,

hey pratt, i understand you had trouble listening to the teachers last night at gymnastics.  


what i really wanted to say was, so dad tells me that you made about a c minus at gymnastics last night.  he said you didn't listen and you got in trouble by miss andrea.

but i didn't.  i tried to spin it.  be positive.  blah blah blah.

you know what he says!?

yes.  the batteries in my wistening (listening) ears were dead.  i'm gonna need new ones.  


prayer requests:
me and clint
all family members that deal with him weekly
his future jolly time preschool teachers
and me again
and me once more

thank you all.

life.

in pictures.




































It's all going by way too fast.

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christmas.

oh christmas.

let's see.  pratt woke christmas morning and came downstairs only to fall asleep in one of the chairs RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS TOYS.  like, he walked in.  took one look.  made no sudden expression.  no smile.  no nothing.  i think he walked to the kitchen and got a glass of water.  then came back.  still underwhelmed.

clint and i just looked at each other.  we were both thinking the same thing.

our child is spoiled.  so spoiled that he doesn't even react when three gifts are in front of him.  


after we questioned him and i made him open his eyes, i realized that something was really wrong.  it wasn't just that he was being lazy.  and ungrateful.

he told me his legs were tired.  and that his whole body was so tired.  and that he just wanted to go back upstairs and go to sleep.

ten minutes later, i was on the phone with our friend vernon.  he's a doctor.  and probably one of the smartest people i know.  in regards to medical issues, there is NO ONE i trust more.  really, there isn't.  he told me that he was dehydrated.  and that i needed to get fluids down him.  he said, "don't worry about taking him to the er.  because at this point, they wouldn't do anything but force fluids too.  the best way to hydrate him is through his GI tract.  not with an IV."

sometimes i think that he has our house bugged.  i swear he can read my mind.  and he knows just what to say.  i cried and cried.  and tried not to cry.  but still cried.  i apologized for crying (while crying).  it was ugly.

but it was honestly, the most scared i've ever been for pratt.  i'm parent of the year for not realizing it sooner.

he had fever and diarrhea several days before.  and the diarrhea continued.  so i should have known.  i should have been forcing gatorade.  but i wasn't.  i was doing...i don't even know.  being a mother to max, maybe.  trying to get christmas presents ready.  etc, etc.

about an hour later, he felt so much better and was back to his old self again.  he came down stairs, loved his gifts and we played and played.  nana and papaw came over and brought him his first real bike!! max got a new walker which he LOVES! pratt's bike has training wheels and everything! i don't know when he got so old.

christmas day we drove to mom and dad's.  we drove separately and i realized about 30 minutes in, that i was exhausted.  and that i was getting sick too.  sure enough, christmas night i had fever and was totally nauseous.  luckily, i didn't throw up ever.  but i felt like hammered dog crap.  about 24 hours later came THE WORST bathroom experience of my life.  i will not talk about it.  i will only say that it was horrible. horrible.  horrible.

my stomach still isn't right.  neither is pratt.  and neither is max's.

mom and dad and spencer spoiled pratt with gifts.  he got the mater pillow pet he had been asking for.  he got an add on set to his marble table block thing that santa brought here.  max got a new suitcase.  thomas the train.  and a TON of new clothes.

it was a great christmas.  just too bad we spent it feeling so sick.  boo.

i wish i had taken pictures.  but i didn't.  maybe mom did.  i will try to get her pictures uploaded.

happy week!